The New Cargo
by Daria234
Summary: Mal discovers a man called Eliot who has been damaged by the Alliance trying to make him a supersoldier. Xover with Leverage but no knowledge of that show is needed. Hurt/comfort. Implied slashiness, don't read if you don't like. NOW UPDATED w/ CHAPTER 2
1. Chapter 1

Written for comment_fic on Livejournal, a multi-fandom prompt community called "Comment_fic: Bite Sized bits of Fic," where you can request fic from any fandom.

Prompt was Mal/Eliot, Eliot escaped from an Academy-like place

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They all have their guns pulled as Mal slowly opens the box. The box that was supposed to be an easy delivery.

And it was easy. Until the box started knocking from the inside.

A man falls out. He's naked and shivering and face down on the floor as Jayne and Zoe step forward, aiming their guns at his head just in case.

But then the man looks up, lifting his head full of blond hair just a couple of inches. And though he is all muscle, Mal can tell just this motion is a torture to him.

And Mal sees his eyes. Bright blue, moist, desperate. The eyes of someone trying to appear brave even when he's been broken ten times over.

Mal knows that look.

He ignores Zoe's concerned "Sir," and kneels down in front of the man, who has found the strength to make the clearly agonizing move of rolling over. He tries to get up onto one elbow, but it is too much for him. Mal tries to help him but then those eyes again. Telling Mal to let him sit up on his own, not because of fear or hostility, but because this is what he needs to do. Mal could see: the man's soul _needed_ to claim its body back. He wasn't just trying to sit up. He was fighting the Alliance for his body.

But as Mal already knew, sometimes the Alliance just wins. The blond man had gotten onto an elbow, had rolled up onto his side. He body looked almost leisurely, tan and muscled and strong-seeming as he stretched out in front of a still-kneeling Mal. But when the man tried to push with his arms and feet against the floor, tried to go right from lying to standing, he almost looked like he was about to will a miracle before he just collapsed with a groan.

Mal caught him. He was heavy for a man his height, and was once sturdy, Mal could tell. His arms held tight around the man's waist, Mal's shoulder holding up the man's upper body. Mal tried not to notice the feel of the man's skin on him, the closeness of his naked body, or the gentle brush of the man's long hair across Mal's neck.

But once, again, he couldn't help but notice the eyes. They told Mal what the man's voice could not.

And Mal knew how to answer. "I'm not going to give you back to them," he told the man, "You will _**never**_ have to go back to them, I promise you."

And there was recognition in the man's eyes. Belief replacing doubt. And Mal felt the weight of his body rest just a little heavier on him, and he realized that the man was finally willing to let Mal carry him.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a week since the man had been naked in Mal's arms that Mal finally learned his name.

Mal was visiting him at the doctor's and as the man looked up at him, Mal saw something different in his eyes.

"You remember something?" Mal perceived.

The man hesitated, but decided to keep trusting Mal. "Eliot. I'm pretty sure my name is Eliot."

Mal felt a stir of something like hope, that maybe with time and a doctor and a whole lot of fight, this man who literally fell into Mal's life might have a chance. To get control of his own body and mind again, to reclaim everything they had stripped him of.

But Eliot didn't look proud or victorious.

"That's great news. Memory coming back."

"Yeah," Eliot said, flashing a false smile, "It's a relief."

Mal paused and said, "Only natural to wonder if you're gonna like all those memories that come back. Probably some not-too-nice ones mixed in. Way of the 'verse and all."

"Yeah...."

"Anything else on your mind?"

Eliot sighed. He gestured at his body, the exposed scars on his torso. "Look at me, Mal."

"It's a nice enough view," Mal grinned.

Eliot smiled back, looking impish just for a moment before his visage became serious again. "No, really. Is this the body of an innocent guy who just happened to end up at the Academy? This is a killer's body, Mal."

"You don't know that," Mal said, though both knew he had a good point.

"And the thing with Jayne," Eliot said, referring to Jayne's paranoid attack on Eliot that morning, the first time he was able to walk around. And though Eliot was obviously at only a fraction of actual physical strength, Jayne still ended up howling on the floor for the doctor.

"Crew thought that was right funny," Mal said.

"Mal," Eliot said, sighing, "We both know that things might be different when all my memories come back. I...could be a threat to your crew. And to you."

"I know how to protect my crew," Mal said, strategically not mentioning the fact that Jayne wasn't even the third best fighter now that River had gone sane. His instincts told him that Eliot was a good man, but no use being a fool about it.

Eliot hesitated and then said, "My left shoulder has a problem. I don't think it's from whatever they did to me. I think it's old, which means I don't think the doctor can fix it."

"He's a real good doctor-"

Eliot interrupted, "That's not what I mean. If I start acting ... ungrateful, then ... that's my weakness. Use it."

Mal nodded. But then he gently brushed the hair out of Eliot's face and ran his thumb down his cheek. "I don't think we'll need to do any of that Eliot. I think maybe you worry too much."

Eliot smiled. "It feels right, you saying my name. I'm starting to think what I've recovered might actually be real."

"Good. Because if you keep improving, you might get to hear me say your name in all sorts of interesting ways," Mal said with a smirk.

Eliot smiled, as much with relief as with desire. If someone like Mal believed that he was a decent enough man, then he might actually be. So he gave his best flirtatious smile and answered, "At least now you know I'm motivated."


End file.
